


Dear Armand (letters never sent drabble)

by Violet_Amber_Vamps1



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 10:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17042399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violet_Amber_Vamps1/pseuds/Violet_Amber_Vamps1
Summary: Daniel after initially leaving Armand tries to keep a record of himself as his mind begins to unravel. Recording his thoughts like a good reporter...





	Dear Armand (letters never sent drabble)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my Daniel tumblr blog - violeteyedvampiremolloy - around 2years ago

Its been Four months(I think...) Why the hell havent you found me so I can say sorry….

You can’t find me by magic like you used to, I’d think of you and their you’d be. I call the Night Island number and hear my own voice asking me to record after the beep. I never do. But I’m not totally invisible surely, you used to bring me home. But now no matter how much I want to I can’t. Because I’m not your equal, things in my head aren’t right. I need to fix this or you’ll blame yourself. And I can’t do that make you regret turning me. I was never stable really to begin with was I. 

I keep on going over our last argument in my head. Analysing every possible pathway to us blowing up, shattering apart. That look on your face when i said all those vicious things, poison bile. Like I’d stabbed you in the heart. Your beautiful eyes pooling with tears. I thought once we were together, equals some of your fears would subside. That you wouldn’t expect the shoe to drop and fulfil your own prophecy that we were doomed to part. Then the other part of me fears you’ll never try to find me because you do regret turning me. That I’m nothing compared to Marius, good riddens to the flawed fledgling. I’ll go to post this and then find it in my jeans folded and dated two months previous. Times jumping and I don’t know how to cope with it.

I'm recording everything like a good reporter. Mostly things to you. As if your here to listen. I say the time, date, month and year so when i listen back in can keep track. Write on the side sticker as I add bits. That's when I realise it's been nearer to a year not four months now. Your not on the Night Island anymore are you. I recorded your voice on my mobile from your answerphone when you recorded it. Laughter in your voice as this is the millionth take and we keep corpsing eachother mid way through. Voice like a caress. Home. The bundle of cassettes my dearest possession. I'll play them to you one day. When I'm better, stronger. You'll forgive this poor mudded reporter like you always did. 

When I'm lucid I write on the tapes when not its just a jumbled out pouring of feelings. Horrid to listen to. To hear the trauma, to identify tiny the tortured soul as me. One and the same. I get caught up in things. Paranoia. Mostly. But just because I'm paranoid doesnt mean their not all out to get me. This time it's the belief that someone is following me. I can sense them so it's not you. (Why can't it have been you....) Powerful, heartbeat thunderous on my periphery. What can they want with some bedraggled fledgling like me. It comes and goes..... Vampires are territorial like hissing Cats. If I get a hint of rankles as a received warning I move onto the next place, state - whereever. That's the strange thing only this presence stands out. As if all the other Tom Cats have been scared away. A scarier Tom cat?

Nearly didn't make it back to shelter in time before dawn. Would have been embarrassing to fry because of a hallucination. Thought I saw you. Amongst a throng of mortals, a flash of auburn tantalisingly always ahead of me. One step ahead. A metaphor of us if ever there was one. And like a good Alice I followed you like the White Rabbit. I called to you but you didn't reply. Ended up in a basement of a abandoned warehouse. No memory of how. The presence looming large. Never threatening just there. Not my flea ridden digs. Awoke the next night to a cacophony of chatter along the vampire grape vine. Never can totally filter out all the mind voices, a Web of fellow vampires a buzz. News gruesome. Someone had immolated themselves in the sun. Someone old, of the coven of the articulate. Sadness and graveside humour tinge this news. Then the flash backs from TV footage or atleast I assume. Auburn hair. No. My heart stops it's you...... noone else has hair like that...sadness and despair almost suffocating some of it mine, some from someone else nearby. Sanity hanging by a thread it snaps and what ever, who ever that other vampire stalker is he can have me. Because I'm just a husk now. Of pain, regret. I claw away savagely at my chest, because I can't stand my immortal heart beating if your not in the world anymore. Hope. True love conquers all......Forever theres meant to be forever to make up. My outside is a shrivelled thing, not feeding enough. Now my inside matches. Not enough strength to break through ribs but I'll try. If it takes me days to shatter it as much as it feels I'll do it. Then nothing. Someone k'od me. Vulcanised death gripped my consciousness.


End file.
